


85 Percent

by marsakat



Category: Twenty One Pilots
Genre: Angst, Gender Dysphoria, Hurt/Comfort, Jealousy, M/M, One Night Stands, Pregnancy Scares, Smut, Trans Character, Unrequited Love
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-10-22
Updated: 2016-10-22
Packaged: 2018-08-24 00:46:27
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,991
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/8349622
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/marsakat/pseuds/marsakat
Summary: Josh doesn't do this often, but tonight is different than every other night.





	

**Author's Note:**

  * For [edy](https://archiveofourown.org/users/edy/gifts).



> I dreamt this last night and cranked it out because sometimes you just need to write angst. Please stay safe: blood/vomit mention, dysphoria

When Josh’s back lands on the bed that isn’t his, it’s to fill a need that ached all the way down in his core.  A throbbing between his legs that has him spreading his thighs for a near-stranger whose body weight was suffocating.  Josh wanted to be suffocated, to black out, to forget.

He wasn’t drunk, just buzzed in the vaguest sense that only helped him strip off his fancy clothing and let this bigger man touch his skin with clumsy hands.  Josh’s judgement was clouded, not by alcohol, but by a roiling mix of bitterness, jealousy, and resentment.  It drove him to act like this, be a fool in front of everyone _they_ knew.  Undoubtedly people were going to talk about how _scandalously_ he acted, how Tyler would be ashamed of him.

The man’s hands groped across Josh’s chest, and he shoved them downwards, to fulfil the want.

“God, you’re so fucking wet,” he said and fingers pushed in.  Too fast—too much at once, but Josh just closed his eyes and pretended to moan.  The ache was only slightly relieved, and Josh pushed forward hoping more would take away this burning in his chest.  The man bit and licked his neck, Josh knew they’d only form bruises later. 

Josh was allowed to behave like this; both a punishment and a release, he reasoned with himself.  Any normal person would be angry if they had to stand up there in a suit watching the love of their life marry someone better than they.

The man’s thumb came to flick across his clit and Josh actually bucked from the flash of pleasure he _finally_ was getting.  The man did it again, and Josh grinded into his hand, panting turning into desperate whines he never heard himself make before.

“Yeah, you like that baby gir—”

“Don’t you dare call me that,” Josh’s voice turned angry.  Any other time, that would’ve been the end of it.  Josh would’ve shoved them off and gotten the hell away from the person trying to misgender him even though they _had to know_ –how else would they be invited to Tyler’s wedding and not know about Josh?

But that is why this encounter is a punishment as well.  Because Josh felt sickened that he couldn’t be happy for the both of them.  And maybe that’s why he deserved to be alone, only useful for quick fucks with people that treated him like he was worthless.

He was worthless.  Tyler and he could never be, even though he knew the singer looked at him with stars in his eyes.  Said Josh was one of the best things that ever happened to him, and made him feel _something_ besides the emptiness.  That’s why Josh loved Tyler in every way, and it was reciprocated to some extent.   Maybe before _her_ they had a chance, but there was always the obstacle of Tyler’s family.  Josh had the right ‘parts’ to mollify them, but that would never be enough for as long as they couldn’t accept who he was, fully. 

The man’s fingers left him completely and Josh lay there silently watching him struggle with the condom.   He wondered how drunk his one night lover was, and tried to recall who he was, shouting an indistinguishable name over the music as Josh pressed close enough to feel his erection pushing eagerly into his stomach.  Was he with the bride or groom?  Josh assumed the former since he thought he knew everyone on Tyler’s side, but there was always that second cousin twice removed or whatever that was an obligatory invitation. Josh snickered involuntarily that he _at least_ was about to get fucked by someone possibly in Tyler’s gene pool.

He examined this man closely as he loomed over, ready now.  Josh tried to recognize some familiar trait in him; did he have Tyler’s nose, or his teeth, or maybe his unique hairline?  Something for Josh to focus on throughout what was about to happen next.

The man turned momentarily gentle as he stroked down Josh’s thighs to ease them apart and accommodate his girth.  This man’s build alone completely distinguished him from Tyler—broad and firm, where Tyler’s body (always tragically platonic) against Josh was simultaneously boney and soft, thin as if he’d slip away in the wind, but solidly comforting. This man met Josh’s lips for a hungry kiss, to make him eager for the cock slipping, teasing up and down his needy cunt.

“You want this so bad,” the man told Josh, who nodded.  That’s what they’re here for after all.

“Gonna fuck you so good,” He pushed just the head in and Josh’s back arched involuntarily instantaneously wanting more and nothing at all. 

It’d been so long since anything had been inside him, Josh too busy pining over Tyler and feeling guilty for masturbating to the thought of his friend doing this to him.  Josh normally didn’t get off to being penetrated, firm circles over his clit preferential, but this pulsating desire he felt ever since he got dressed before the ceremony—looking with disgust at the person in the mirror—he needed someone _in him_.

The man’s tip left him and Josh briefly wondered if it was obvious now how much his mind was wandering away from the present.  Had the guy taken offense to Josh’s lack of interest of him as a person rather than a dick that was giving him what he needed?

But then he was rubbing his dick against Josh’s clit and Josh keened and spoke for only the second time since their clothes had been removed, “Fuck!  Please!  Just fuck me already,” he begged.  Jeez, if he was a little more mentally invested in this, it probably would be a very great lay.

“Yeah, beg for this cock.  You’re dripping for it, you want it so much, you little slut.  All whining and needy,” The man kept rubbing deliciously against him, and Josh couldn’t even protest the words being used at him.  He _was_ a slut after all, what else was this whole encounter after all?  Not only was he an abomination, but he was a whore getting fucked while his true love was consummating his own marriage at that moment.

So Josh begged, until the man pushed fully into him, finally, with a groan about how tight Josh was.  Josh had expected to be filled by this man would be enough, that Josh would feel lighter.  But the body holding him down as the thrusts started—hard and unyielding—it was far from how he assumed Tyler would treat him like this.  Like was doing elsewhere, not far.  Probably with gentle kisses and slow movements, groaning as he told _her_ how beautiful, perfect _she_ is.  Josh’s body felt good, but it wasn’t romantic.  Nothing about how the man stared at his own dick plunging in and out made Josh feel loved and respected.  It was utility, this is what he deserved—legs wrapped around flexing hips

He hoped _they_ both were happy, because he loved them.  Tyler, of course, and _she_ , who was wonderful, Josh didn’t want to pull her down with all his pain.  _She_ was always so kind and accepting of him that Josh couldn’t hate her as a person, just hate what she had all to herself.  _She_ deserved Tyler treating her like a treasure, and Josh got this.

It felt like it went on forever, and Josh ignored his own orgasm because coming too soon would make this unbearable.   He was moaning, squeaking, half crying somewhere between loss and pleading.

“C’mon, yeah so fucking—oh fuck you’re so good. Cum for me, cum on that cock.  Wanna see you cum, baby,” The man was pushing so hard into him, Josh was seeing stars, his whole body being bounced.  There were fingers on his clit and Josh came hard, climax causing him to yell incoherently and bear down.  The orgasm felt…felt like something broke within him, and Josh eased, finally sated as the man’s head flung back.

“Oh fuck that’s so good, so tight.  Gonna cum,” The man’s voice turned into a massive groan and his thrusts turned uneven.  Josh felt wet heat explode within him and the man gave a few desperate, thoughtless stabs into him, collapsing on top.  Josh’s legs stayed where they were in numb disbelief and growing fear.  What now?

The aching changed from desire to soreness, his vagina tender but the softening cock stayed in—Josh didn’t know what to do.  He wanted to be alone, curl up and be miserable.  The high of jealousy was gone and now he had to live with his actions.

“So good,” the man kissed Josh’s cheek after he caught his breath and withdrew.  Josh lay still as the other stood and made his way to the hotel bathroom—probably to wash Josh’s sin off him.  Josh could hear mild cursing, and the man came back out.

“I, um...” The man looked down on Josh lying still naked on the bed, and words failed him.  There was something in his face that wasn’t there before, and he began to gather his clothes to get dressed, “Uh, a friend just text me to give them a ride.  They’re like super drunk, so I, uh, gotta go.  I would stay, but—”

“No,” Josh didn’t expect his voice to shake so much, “You should go.”

The man certainly didn’t kiss him goodbye, and Josh wondered if he was lying for a long time after he left.   Josh was waiting for the urge to even stand again, knowing he should pee and shower before allowing himself to try and sleep.  But he was too tired—physically, emotionally, to move.  He could hear the other wedding attendees now, gossiping truth about him.  What if the man spoke about this?  What would he say?  Would he be kind enough to say Josh was a good fuck?  Would that get back to Tyler and Tyler would wish he—No, Tyler was out of bounds and if anything he’d want to defend his best friend’s honor, of which he had none.

Josh finally stood on knees that shook and felt a _gushing_ sensation in his lower half as the equilibrium changed.  And then something connected and he _ran_ to the bathroom to wipe and examine and _oh God no_.  It made sense, why the guy left so quickly.  It wasn’t a metaphorical snapping, something actually had broken.

Josh leapt into the shower and tried to scrub the cum from his legs, from inside him, sobbing for real now.  The condom had broken and the man left without telling him. But it was so deep, and he could feel it like poison.

At least he was on the Pill, he reminded himself.  No need to disgrace Tyler with his drummer getting knocked up by a possible distant family member at his own wedding.  Josh lay on the floor of the shower among who knows how many germs.  He let the streams of water fall down his face along with the hot tears.

At least he was on the Pill…but wait.  He’d switched recently, Josh almost forgot.  The old pills had made him sick and the new ones weren’t much better.  In fact, he’d been nauseous for days leading up to the wedding—though that could’ve been his jealousy—that he’d skipped… _oh God no_.  Josh had assumed that the pain of being at this wedding would kill any sex drive, expecting the exact opposite of what did happen.

Josh was so royally fucked.  Plan B made him feel so, so sick he didn’t want to do _that_ again.  He had time though.  Time to consider it in the morning.  Josh brought himself to the bed rumbled with sheets stained of sex and let himself sleep still soaking.

…

He spent the next day researching his options, weighing statistics he barely understood—where was he in his cycle, what if he was in the safe point, what if the egg was already fertilized—either way he’d go through the side effects of Plan B uselessly, and all these factors just built up until Josh was having a full blown dysphoric anxiety attack.

He never liked thinking about what felt like he was cursed with, and now it just was all too much. Tyler’s wedding, this one night stand gone awry—Josh couldn’t handle it anymore.  So after he essentially passed out from hyperventilating and woke back up again, he decided to forget for the next few days.  Wait until the last minute.

It felt like a tremendous burden—he couldn’t tell his mother, or siblings—they’d be kind but he didn’t want them knowing.  Tyler shouldn’t be disturbed; he was supposed to be happy at this moment.  Josh called Mark and sobbed.  Mark had seen what had led to this, and was soothing, patient with the drummer.  Mark picked him up from the hotel and brought him home, staying to keep any eye on him since he was so fragile.

Josh mourned and wondered what could be happening inside him, bitterly imagining that _she_ had gotten knocked up too on her wedding night, and Tyler would be surrounded by _babies_.  Mark left for a few hours to get food, returning with take out and a box of the pills Josh wasn’t sure if he should take.

“When you’re ready,” Mark said quietly, and then changed the subject.

Josh waited 68 hours and 32 minutes from the moment the condom broke to finally concede to taking Plan B.  Nausea, stomach pain, all hit him and he prayed that meant it was going to work.  Mark stayed, and for that Josh would be eternally grateful.  This was above what he expected, helping him as he vomited, bled, and nearly fainted.  Josh was the king of side effects, but at least his mind could be eased.

Tyler returned from the honeymoon happier than Josh had ever seen him, and they threw themselves into finishing their record.  Tyler didn’t act any different towards him than before, and maybe Josh was stupid for thinking that a ring on his finger would change their friendship.  No one mentioned to Tyler what had happened, and Josh could easily forget.

Forget until he was _late_ and he researched that Plan B, when left till the end of the seventy hours, was only eighty-five percent effective.  And his panic attacks reared their ugly heads again, fighting the reasonable side that said Plan B would cause some menstrual changes along with his new-new birth control pills.

Tyler watched him closely after Josh literally fell off his drum stool from playing too hard to beat away the fear inside him.  Tyler knew something was wrong, Josh could tell, and Tyler was like a dog digging for a bone when he sensed something not right.

“Bro, you know I love you, right?”  Tyler hugged him after a particularly long practice session.

Josh let himself melt into his arms, wishing he could be happy about this.  But he felt so dirty, so dysphoric.

“Something’s up with you, and I just want you to know that, um, I’m always here for you to tell me.  Cuz it’s not good to hold it up inside.  Please, Josh—when you’re ready.”

It only took a few hours for Josh to break and tell Tyler—sobbing on his couch with Jenna making food for them in the kitchen.

“I—I had sex with someone and I might be—,” Josh curled in on himself unable to say the word, though Tyler didn’t need to hear it.

“Might be? How long before—?” Tyler whispered, rubbing his friend’s back, afraid of what to say next.

“I haven’t taken a test but I’m…I missed,” Josh explained before he couldn’t anymore.

“Oh,” Tyler scratched his head and looked scared, “I’m sorry.”

“Don’t be, I was—I was being stupid.  I um, got drunk at your wedding, and uh,” _oh God,_ why was he saying this and why was he _lying_?

Tyler froze and looked dumbstruck, “Was it someone we know?  Sorry—I shouldn’t have asked.”

“No, that’s okay, I mean.  _I_ didn’t know him, but one of you guys probably…”  Josh let out a broken laugh, “Fuck, I don’t even know his name.   I’m such a—”

“No,” Tyler cut across, knowing the next words out of Josh’s mouth would be disparaging, “It’s okay, Jishwa.  We’ll figure it out.  I’m here no matter what.  You’re stuck with me.”

Josh didn’t cry anymore, a light shifted into his heart.  What he’d been most afraid of was Tyler’s reaction, for the singer to look at him as something less than how he always had.  And he’d heard the worst of it and was still here.  They hugged for a long time until Jenna announced the food was ready, and he felt…better.  This was nice, the married couple adoring him—Jenna hugging him too and telling him she’s always there for both of ‘her boys’.  Maybe this wasn’t going to be so bad.

The first pregnancy test came out negative, as did the second, but not the third.  He bought the fourth and decided to go to the doctor afterward regardless of the result, but then came the pain in his lower abdomen.  The cramps he always dreaded, not just for the discomfort, but also for the fact that it signified he had a _goddamn uterus_ and was _living in transition_.  This time he didn’t curse its existence or pray that he’d wake up with a different body, he raised his head to the sky and thanked God.

He called Tyler later, after the fourth test confirmed what had finally arrived, and he took some Tylenol.

“Hello?” Tyler answered tentatively, clearly expecting bad news.

“Hey man,” Josh felt freer than air, “Good news.”

“Yeah?”

“You’re not gonna be a godfather yet,” Josh laughed and Tyler exhaled.

They were gonna be okay. 

**Author's Note:**

> I've been busy writing longer fics, and haven't been posting much, but this story came to me in a dream. I really tried to be accurate, but please let me know if I misrepresented anything.
> 
> Teeentyonepilots on tumblr.


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